Wednesday, May 31, 2017
Graduation
Some things are really hard for me to accept...Mary was diagnosed with AML in April of 2014. She was in 5th grade. She was happy, thriving in a new school and making new friends. She was diagnosed and one of the hardest things for her was not being able to go to school. We were able to see her graduate from elementary school which was a miracle. Everything fell into place between her treatments. She felt great, was relatively healthy and we were able to attend the 5th grade graduation celebrations. It was a memory I will forever treasure. She was able to see friends, laugh, dance and just be a kid. For a short time at least. I remember being a nervous wreck and trying to just let go and let her live for a few hours. Mary loved school, every single second of it. She took nothing for granted, ever. We believed and prayed she would one day make it to middle school. She tried so hard to keep up with her school work when and where she could, although it was impossible to do with her grueling treatment schedule and setbacks. Her only hope was that she could be a normal kid again. And just like that, in what seems like a blink of an eye, her friends are now graduating from middle school...without her. I actually blocked this fact out until one of her friends texted me and told me the middle school did a beautiful tribute to her at graduation. It broke my heart into pieces. It hit me like a ton of bricks that we are missing another important milestone in Mary's life. Something she would have treasured and made the most of. Watching her friends mature and grow and thrive is a beautiful thing but it also tears me apart because a special someone should be enjoying these life moments as well. I am grateful her friends remember her and keep her in their hearts. But talk about another gut punch I wasn't quite prepared for 😔. Cancer sucks. #takenothingforgranted
Sunday, May 21, 2017
Epiphany
Epiphanies... It seems I have new epiphanies often these days. It's quite strange and I think that maybe it is a good thing. I believe it means I am growing and evolving more as a person. I am trying to take my life experiences and learn from them. I hope I am also becoming a stronger and better human in the process. Though it is obvious to me and those around me I still have a lot of growing to do, but I believe you have to start somewhere. I have tried to learn from my life lessons and sometimes I write them down so that I don't forget them. Sometimes I even like to share them if I feel they may be beneficial to others.
Recently my friend Anna Bozeman (Lake's mom) and I had a good conversation about some things we have realized about this difficult journey of grief we have sadly have been on together. After losing a child the pain is so deep and so great I don't think anyone really knows how to properly cope with it. This is something books can't really teach you how to do. People can't really tell you how to cope and it is honestly different for everyone. Losing anyone you love is a horrible experience. I've had many miscarriages. I've lost loved ones and friends of different ages and stages. I don't care what anyone says, having a child die in your arms has to be one of the worst pains imaginable. I'm not here to compare my grief pain to anyone else's, it's not a contest. I'm just here to say that child grief is, I believe, unmappable. I don't think that is even a real word (according to spellcheck 🙄). I created it because it just seemed to fit the picture. But I think you get the point. It is different and individual for everyone. Some navigate it better than others. Some come through it on the other side, some get lost on the way and some never make it out alive. No one can tell you how to find your way through it. There is no map. After a while, once you wake up from the haze of realizing your child is really gone, you might try just about anything to forget the pain. You ignore it. You try going into a state of denial. You get distracted anyway you can. Maybe you numb it in some way. You always look for a way to make the pain disappear. The pain is so deep and so horrible that to face it and deal with it head on seems almost unimaginable. I for one fantasized and sometimes sill do about just running way from it. But I always soon realize running away is impossible, grief follows me everywhere I go. I am still uncertain how one is suppose to properly grieve. Is there a proper way? I don't think so. I read about the stages of grief but they don't fit with losing a child. Sometimes you go through all the stages in a day. People will suggest medication and counceling. Fine, maybe that can help. But at some point you just have to find your own way to deal with it and in your own time. I personally don't want to talk to anyone about my loss unless they have also had a child die in their arms and know my same pain. I handle it by talking to others who understand and who don't judge me. It is a day by day journey for me. Sometimes it is hour by hour and sometimes minute by minute. I now suffer from extreme anxiety and sometimes PTSD which I never had before. I meditate and pray and just try to pause and breathe when life gets overwhelming. Sometimes I want life to hurry up and sometimes I want it to slow down....confusing? Yes, it certainly is.
Ok, all this leads to the epiphany...Anna and I both came to the conclusion that we have to accept that this awful pain of losing our children is never going to just go away. Reguardless of what we do it will always be lingering there in the background. All the anxiety and worry and sadness will always be hiding in the dark corners of our mind. We have to accept this and give it a home. That doesn't mean we can't find joy and happiness in our lives as well. But joy and pain will have to find a way to coexist. We can't expect one to replace the other. I do not believe the permanent holes in our heart can be repaired. This doesn't not mean we have to walk around sad, lonely and depressed people forever. We can be joyful and have lives that hold promises of fulfilling futures. But...there is a "but"...because we have had unimaginable loss we can never let go of certain fears and anxieties. That is just a fact we have to accept. I have some peace with that now. My life will never be the same or like before. It will be different and I am now forever changed but I CAN have a good and happy life. I believe I deserve that. People are able to love and accept me for who I am now even as I carry all these burdens. Pain and sorrow will learn to live next door to joy and happiness and get along. Maybe not be best friends but they can smile and wave and not bother one another. I believe it is possible for all of these feelings to coexist. There doesn't have to be one without the other. This is the new me. It is a complicated mess and doesn't always make perfect sense, but on this day when we had this epiphany this somehow all made sense and gave me some peace. This is just another lesson on this journey called "my life". I hope it can help some else going through this journey as well. ❤️💔🎗
Recently my friend Anna Bozeman (Lake's mom) and I had a good conversation about some things we have realized about this difficult journey of grief we have sadly have been on together. After losing a child the pain is so deep and so great I don't think anyone really knows how to properly cope with it. This is something books can't really teach you how to do. People can't really tell you how to cope and it is honestly different for everyone. Losing anyone you love is a horrible experience. I've had many miscarriages. I've lost loved ones and friends of different ages and stages. I don't care what anyone says, having a child die in your arms has to be one of the worst pains imaginable. I'm not here to compare my grief pain to anyone else's, it's not a contest. I'm just here to say that child grief is, I believe, unmappable. I don't think that is even a real word (according to spellcheck 🙄). I created it because it just seemed to fit the picture. But I think you get the point. It is different and individual for everyone. Some navigate it better than others. Some come through it on the other side, some get lost on the way and some never make it out alive. No one can tell you how to find your way through it. There is no map. After a while, once you wake up from the haze of realizing your child is really gone, you might try just about anything to forget the pain. You ignore it. You try going into a state of denial. You get distracted anyway you can. Maybe you numb it in some way. You always look for a way to make the pain disappear. The pain is so deep and so horrible that to face it and deal with it head on seems almost unimaginable. I for one fantasized and sometimes sill do about just running way from it. But I always soon realize running away is impossible, grief follows me everywhere I go. I am still uncertain how one is suppose to properly grieve. Is there a proper way? I don't think so. I read about the stages of grief but they don't fit with losing a child. Sometimes you go through all the stages in a day. People will suggest medication and counceling. Fine, maybe that can help. But at some point you just have to find your own way to deal with it and in your own time. I personally don't want to talk to anyone about my loss unless they have also had a child die in their arms and know my same pain. I handle it by talking to others who understand and who don't judge me. It is a day by day journey for me. Sometimes it is hour by hour and sometimes minute by minute. I now suffer from extreme anxiety and sometimes PTSD which I never had before. I meditate and pray and just try to pause and breathe when life gets overwhelming. Sometimes I want life to hurry up and sometimes I want it to slow down....confusing? Yes, it certainly is.
Ok, all this leads to the epiphany...Anna and I both came to the conclusion that we have to accept that this awful pain of losing our children is never going to just go away. Reguardless of what we do it will always be lingering there in the background. All the anxiety and worry and sadness will always be hiding in the dark corners of our mind. We have to accept this and give it a home. That doesn't mean we can't find joy and happiness in our lives as well. But joy and pain will have to find a way to coexist. We can't expect one to replace the other. I do not believe the permanent holes in our heart can be repaired. This doesn't not mean we have to walk around sad, lonely and depressed people forever. We can be joyful and have lives that hold promises of fulfilling futures. But...there is a "but"...because we have had unimaginable loss we can never let go of certain fears and anxieties. That is just a fact we have to accept. I have some peace with that now. My life will never be the same or like before. It will be different and I am now forever changed but I CAN have a good and happy life. I believe I deserve that. People are able to love and accept me for who I am now even as I carry all these burdens. Pain and sorrow will learn to live next door to joy and happiness and get along. Maybe not be best friends but they can smile and wave and not bother one another. I believe it is possible for all of these feelings to coexist. There doesn't have to be one without the other. This is the new me. It is a complicated mess and doesn't always make perfect sense, but on this day when we had this epiphany this somehow all made sense and gave me some peace. This is just another lesson on this journey called "my life". I hope it can help some else going through this journey as well. ❤️💔🎗
Thursday, May 11, 2017
Mary, you made me a mom ❤️
Mary, you made me a mom first. The only thing I ever wanted to be. I never felt more blessed or proud than I was to be your mom. You were something extra special. Anyone who met you knew this. People who didn't meet you but just heard your story or saw your picture knew this. You gave off a special radiance and light only angels posses. You seemed to have wisdom and strength beyond your years. You walked to the beat of your own drum. You put others before yourself. I learned from you to be strong and brave and to never give up. To love strong and hard and fierce. To take chances and go for my dreams. To be my true self and to not be afraid and express my feelings.
I now live my life to make you proud. I know we will one day see each other again. No one ever said this journey was going to be easy. I have learned to appreciate the things in life that are more difficult to achieve. I fought to have you and I fought even harder to keep you. I treasured every second I had with you on this earth. If more people valued the ones they love and the precious time with them the world would be a much better place. I think we made the most of our time together as short as it was.
I recently heard a theory that before we are born we choose our paths, the lessons we will learn and the journey we will follow. If that is true then I gladly took on the job of being your mom. With that came all the joys, all the challenges and all the sadness that the job entailed. It also means you willingly decided to enter this earth, endure the cancer and the pain and chose to have your life end too soon. Why? If true I believe it would be to teach others well needed lessons as well. That life is short. To live by faith and not sight. To take nothing for granted. I know I don't regret my choice to be your mom and I never will. Ever. I would chose you every time. Being your mom will always be my greatest accomplishment. I always knew this would be my job from the first moment I could play with a baby doll. I was born to be a mother, your mother. I would choose you again and again. You completed me and I am forever grateful. Until we meet again Mary Elizabeth ...
Saturday, May 6, 2017
Mother's Day sadness 💔
I was talking to another mom today and I asked her what she was doing for Mother's Day. The conversation was spawned by us talking about the hectic Mother's Day weekend coming up with all the crazy kids activities. She just looked at me and said, "I don't really care about that day. We are just busy and not celebrating." Most people might be taken aback by that statement but I understood her 100%. She is the sweetest person, she always has a smile on her face and looks to have it all together-"The perfect mom." But I know she lost a son. She is missing a child on this earth...just like me. So for her Mother's Day is just another painful reminder of something that was taken away from her. Not a something but a child, a love, a piece of her soul. I understand that she has a huge hole left in her heart that can't be filled. It is truly painful. Mother's Day opens the wound further and makes it freely bleed. Basically it just plain sucks-if you didn't appreciate my previous metaphor. I haven't said this out loud before, but I hate the day. I don't want to celebrate it. I don't want to be cherished or loved on or treated extra special on this day. I don't want the big deal made. It just reminds me that I was made a mother, it was great, and then I somehow failed at my job. Maybe not failed, but regardless that's how I feel. Basically all holidays and special days kind of suck now. They only seem to remind me of what is missing from my life and it's really hard to celebrate. I put on a smile and do it for the kids...only. They need it, I don't.
I just looked at my friend today with understanding eyes and said, "Yeah, I get it. Who cares." It got me thinking, and these would never have been my thoughts before I lost Mary, so I felt them worth sharing. Please try to be sensitive to your hurting friends during these times. Take a minute to be thankful for your blessings, then consider those who don't find celebrating this day so fabulous. It would be the moms who have lost children. Some you might not even know are carrying this pain and dark secret. Ladies who can't conceive are hurting. Women who have miscarried feel sad. Those who have lost mother's miss them and feel depressed. Pray for them all. If they are your friend you could ask them to do something fun and distracting without any mention of their pain. If they want to talk, then talk. Or mainly just try to listen. If you are a husband you could let your wife navigate Mother's Day. Maybe she doesn't want to celebrate at all, just ask her. She may need to spend some time alone. She may want to sleep all day. She may want to see a movie or shop or take a get away trip and not call it a "Mother's Day" gift/trip. These are just some thoughts from a mom who understands and I hope they are helpful.
I just looked at my friend today with understanding eyes and said, "Yeah, I get it. Who cares." It got me thinking, and these would never have been my thoughts before I lost Mary, so I felt them worth sharing. Please try to be sensitive to your hurting friends during these times. Take a minute to be thankful for your blessings, then consider those who don't find celebrating this day so fabulous. It would be the moms who have lost children. Some you might not even know are carrying this pain and dark secret. Ladies who can't conceive are hurting. Women who have miscarried feel sad. Those who have lost mother's miss them and feel depressed. Pray for them all. If they are your friend you could ask them to do something fun and distracting without any mention of their pain. If they want to talk, then talk. Or mainly just try to listen. If you are a husband you could let your wife navigate Mother's Day. Maybe she doesn't want to celebrate at all, just ask her. She may need to spend some time alone. She may want to sleep all day. She may want to see a movie or shop or take a get away trip and not call it a "Mother's Day" gift/trip. These are just some thoughts from a mom who understands and I hope they are helpful.
Tuesday, April 11, 2017
April 11
3 years...3 years doesn't seem like that long really, but to me it seems like a lifetime. April 11, 2014 Mary Elizabeth went from a seemingly healthy, normal, beautiful 12 year old girl to a child diagnosed with leukemia. We went from enjoying spring break, looking forward to Easter and her sister's upcoming birthday to trying to process a cancer diagnosis and what that meant. We truly had no way to comprehend what the next 17 months fighting the beast would entail. This is probably a good thing. Ignorance is bliss in a lot of ways, if we'd known how hard it was going to be we might not have had the strength to fight it. I'll never forget standing in the kitchen, after previously being told my daughter had mono, and getting a shocking phone call being told to rush straight to the hospital because they NOW suspected leukemia. My world was spinning and my brain couldn't even process the words in my ear. Steve walked in at the exact moment I was hearing the words "LEUKEMIA". He looked at my face and he just knew. I must have been as white as a ghost, only the wall was holding me up. I'll never forget being in that too tiny closed conference room with the doctor, who had tears in his eyes, trying to explain to two distraught, frightened parents that their daughter had leukemia. And even worse we soon learned she had AML, the most rare and deadly of the leukemias. I just wanted to go back to being ignorant. I didn't want to know about leukemia or even want the stupid word to exist. When you are told to not search the internet for information you know it can't be good. It was all way too much to handle and something I really couldn't even remotely process. We then had to try to figure out how we were suppose to explain something we really couldn't even understand ourselves to our daughter. I will never forget through hysterical tears telling Mary Elizabeth she had leukemia, a cancer we would do everything we could to beat. And I was trying hard to really believe we would beat it myself. The statistics were against us but I was hoping her will to fight was stronger. In true hero Mary form she comforted us instead and told her own parents, "Ok, no more tears. Y'all are no longer allowed to cry. Only I can cry. Everything will be ok." She was so strong and brave and confident. In that moment I knew she needed us to be stronger and braver and confident also. It was usually her strength which gave me the courage to carry through. I mostly kept my promise not to cry. Or at least to not cry in front of her. I would cry in the shower, in the hospital garden or silently into my pillow. If Mary could endure 100's of pokes, procedures, disappointments and tests then I could be strong enough to hold her hand without tears that she could see. I would choke them back, turn my head and wait until I reached the waiting room to let them flow. I was safe there with multiple other parents doing the same. Today I am not always strong without her. I am weak. I cry...a lot. She probably can see all my tears from heaven. I mostly hide them from the rest of the world, but she sees them. I can hear her sweet little voice in my ear, "Mommy, please don't cry. I'm ok. I love you so much. Please be strong. Maddy and Whit need you." When she left me I lost a big part of my strength, a huge chunk of my world was gone. She was a big reason for me waking up everyday and living. I still have reasons...Steve, Maddy and Whit. I am finding more reasons everyday. In this journey we have made so many amazing friends and have also lost too many. I hope 3 years from now Mary's legacy will have grown and more awareness and change will have happened. She at least deserves that and I have to wake up everyday to help make it happen. This true sad story is proof that life can change in a day, a minute, a second. Mine did on April 11, 2014. I choose to keep living without my soulmate and best friend by my side. It is really really hard. Some days it almost seems impossible. I have to believe her spirit is still with me guiding me along the way. I get by counting my blessings, staying positive and being grateful for what I do still have. I am forever thankful for the time I did share with Mary. Being her mom was my greatest gift. I will never forget this day-April 11, 2014. The day my life changed forever.
Saturday, April 8, 2017
Hi Mary 😇
Spring break 2017 was relaxing and reenergizing. Something my soul really needed. Good times with friends is always much needed for the whole family and the kids really needed the break. Vacations are fun but also difficult because you know in your heart you are always missing one special person. It was a good week with tons of laughs, the best kids, ice cream runs, great food and awesome sunsets. We were very blessed to also spend some time with Peyton and Robert and their families. These are two cancer warriors and sweet friends of Mary's that mean the world to us. Honestly seeing Robert soaking up every second of the sand and sun after all he has been through broke my heart into pieces. He never stopped and never complained. I was beyond overjoyed to see him so happy. But he was so happy because he hasn't seen the ocean in years being that he has missed out on so much life because of damn cancer. Playing and rolling in the surf was something most kids take for granted, not Robert. Most kids complain they are hot, or tired, or sandy, or hungry, or bored. Imagine being bored at the beach???!!! Not Robert. He has spent more days fighting cancer than he has been alive. Yep, he just passed that milestone. It breaks my heart that the sweetest angels suffer the most. I got over my pity party eventually and later enjoyed our precious time with Robert. His smile and love for life is contagious just like Mary's and Lake's, explains the bond...there is a lesson in that. Next time you want to complain instead remember their smiles and their infectious love for life. Then just soak up the sun and take in the positives.
A few weeks before the trip I started doing something new. My best friend had been talking to me a lot about doing meditation for anxiety and trying some visualization strategies. I thought she was full of a bunch of baloney, but recently my brother in law was also talking about how much it has helped him. So I asked her more about it and she sent me some YouTube videos. Some seemed ridiculous, honestly. My nature is to do deep research into these things and I also did a lot more reading. I still am. Some of it is very interesting and much of it makes some sense. I am new at all of it but every morning at home I do breathing exercises and positive meditation. I figured it can't hurt, right? So one day I decided to do a visualization where I actually visited with Mary. It seemed very real and powerful. Once we were together in my mind there wasn't anything I really needed to ask her. I just wanted to hold her, kiss her and cry. Then I told her I needed to see tangible, undeniable signs. I needed to known she was always near. I needed her to show me without a doubt she was with me and approved of my path. When I came out of this meditation I was covered in tears, mentally exhausted and I haven't been able to do it since. But I have been able to have more peace. And also I know I can go back there if/when I need to. Well some amazing things have happened that makes me believe there is maybe something to all of this. The theory is that we are all energy and we can connect if we can get into a place of positivity and acceptance. And depending on what perspective we have we can manifest positives or negatives into our life. I for one want more positive. I do believe that the universe is a big and powerful place. There is a lot out there and absolutely no way we can understand everything. A few strange things happened the week leading up to the beach and while at the beach. Here are a few things from the beach: On the way to the beach I noticed a cloud that looked like an angel and a heart. I watched them for about 30 minutes and they never moved. They are clouds, no biggie. Then one evening we were taking sunset pictures and I noticed a strange glow on my hand. I thought it was just the reflection of my ring, but realized my ring was on my other hand. I started looking at the other pictures and the golden orb was in many others and in the live pictures it moves all around very strangely. I sent them to a photographer friend who told me that is not something she can explain. I then knew it was Mary. The next evening my parents were taking pictures in their back yard of a beautiful cross Steve Gray (@crossdesigns1991 FB:Crossroads Deaigns of Perry, GA) made for my dad. My dad is making a "Mary Garden". Mary loved collecting crosses and Mr. Gray made one we gave Whit for Christmas. Guess what? The same golden orb showed up in my parents pictures in the garden around the cross moving all around. My sister took many picture and videos. There is no denying that Mary is with us. She came through. I am posting some of the the pictures so you can see it and decide for yourself.
For the first time in a very long time I feel strong and happy. I know Mary is with me in spirit. I feel even though my life is different and even though my path has changed it can still be a good, no a great and fulfilling path. I just have to let go, remember to not control everything. And just trust and BE STILL.
A few weeks before the trip I started doing something new. My best friend had been talking to me a lot about doing meditation for anxiety and trying some visualization strategies. I thought she was full of a bunch of baloney, but recently my brother in law was also talking about how much it has helped him. So I asked her more about it and she sent me some YouTube videos. Some seemed ridiculous, honestly. My nature is to do deep research into these things and I also did a lot more reading. I still am. Some of it is very interesting and much of it makes some sense. I am new at all of it but every morning at home I do breathing exercises and positive meditation. I figured it can't hurt, right? So one day I decided to do a visualization where I actually visited with Mary. It seemed very real and powerful. Once we were together in my mind there wasn't anything I really needed to ask her. I just wanted to hold her, kiss her and cry. Then I told her I needed to see tangible, undeniable signs. I needed to known she was always near. I needed her to show me without a doubt she was with me and approved of my path. When I came out of this meditation I was covered in tears, mentally exhausted and I haven't been able to do it since. But I have been able to have more peace. And also I know I can go back there if/when I need to. Well some amazing things have happened that makes me believe there is maybe something to all of this. The theory is that we are all energy and we can connect if we can get into a place of positivity and acceptance. And depending on what perspective we have we can manifest positives or negatives into our life. I for one want more positive. I do believe that the universe is a big and powerful place. There is a lot out there and absolutely no way we can understand everything. A few strange things happened the week leading up to the beach and while at the beach. Here are a few things from the beach: On the way to the beach I noticed a cloud that looked like an angel and a heart. I watched them for about 30 minutes and they never moved. They are clouds, no biggie. Then one evening we were taking sunset pictures and I noticed a strange glow on my hand. I thought it was just the reflection of my ring, but realized my ring was on my other hand. I started looking at the other pictures and the golden orb was in many others and in the live pictures it moves all around very strangely. I sent them to a photographer friend who told me that is not something she can explain. I then knew it was Mary. The next evening my parents were taking pictures in their back yard of a beautiful cross Steve Gray (@crossdesigns1991 FB:Crossroads Deaigns of Perry, GA) made for my dad. My dad is making a "Mary Garden". Mary loved collecting crosses and Mr. Gray made one we gave Whit for Christmas. Guess what? The same golden orb showed up in my parents pictures in the garden around the cross moving all around. My sister took many picture and videos. There is no denying that Mary is with us. She came through. I am posting some of the the pictures so you can see it and decide for yourself.
For the first time in a very long time I feel strong and happy. I know Mary is with me in spirit. I feel even though my life is different and even though my path has changed it can still be a good, no a great and fulfilling path. I just have to let go, remember to not control everything. And just trust and BE STILL.
Tuesday, March 21, 2017
New Grief
My friend Anna and I had lunch with a new grieving mom this week. I was thrown back into many memories of missing Mary and coming home forever missing a child. Leaving the hospital without your child is a horrible feeling that is hard to explain. I had to do it twice with Mary. Both times were excruciating. One time it was temporary and one time was permanent. I now can't help but wonder if the first time was a warning of the future to come...When she was born she was so tiny and I had to leave the hospital without her. She was born pretty healthy but very small and she was placed in the special care nursery at Northside Hospital. I had fought so hard to have this precious baby and there was no way I was leaving her at the hospital alone, but I had to. It was for just one night but it felt terrible. I remember forcefully and reluctantly being made to go home for the night after my personal stay was over. It was an awful feeling to have a new baby and then to have to leave the hospital empty handed. I got home and didn't sleep a wink. I called the nursery several times during the night just to check on Mary. Then at 5 a.m. I woke Steve up and made him drive me back to the hospital. I camped out in the nursery until I aggravated the staff enough and they finally let me take her home. This is no joke. I barely took my eyes off off of her or slept for the next two years...also not a joke. I think I always knew deep down in my soul that my time with her would be short and I treasured every moment. I worried constantly she would stop breathing and I didn't want to miss a minute or a look at her perfect, beautiful angelic face. Somehow I just always knew she was going to leave me too soon.
Sitting with this mom at lunch I relived so many memories of losing Mary. It is really hard to go back there, and I realized it really wasn't that long ago when I was sitting in her very same shoes at the very beginning of this journey of loss. I don't envy her. Now also a mom of 2 and not 3. A mom feeling lost, sad and alone-but not alone. So many moms are just like me, too many missing babies that should still be with them. But you still feel so lonely and confused. Sometimes it seems like a millions years have passed. The world keeps moving in fast forward and I feel like I am being catapulted forward as well and expected to somehow find a way to cope. It's very weird. I think in many ways I'm still in denial that Mary is gone and never coming home. I sometimes feel her close and I think she will soon walk through the door of this house. A house we bought soon before she was diagnosed. A house built perfectly for 3 kids. A house too big for 2 kids but just right for 3 kids and 3 cats. Mary should be running around going to dance class, enjoying her friends, her cool room and awesome playhouse. If I think about it too hard I really just can't function. Honestly some days I don't. Some days I go back to bed, pull the covers over my head and hide or escape into fantasy land. Most days I do ok. I can pretend to be a normal mom and handle fundraisers, school carnivals, lacrosse games and cheer practices. But I am always missing a 3rd child's activities and that will never change. The truth is I can't go into Mary's room or I might never leave. I can't go through her clothes or her things because I become frozen. I just live downstairs and keep the basement, garage and closets basically unorganized in fear I will find her memories and just become paralyzed. It has happened on many occasions. Talking to this mom who lost her son to cancer just mere weeks ago brought back the memories of losing Mary. It felt like it happened just yesterday. Memories of me screaming and not recognizing my own cries. My begging God to save my child as she took her last breath in my arms flashed in my head. Driving home from Memphis with an empty van seat, a van seat that would forever be empty was all I could see. A restaurant reservation forever for just 4 and no longer 5 was stuck in my mind. I have memories of going to the dentist and being asked if they could make an appointment for Mary and not being prepared how to respond. I have memories of being asked how many children I have and bursting into tears in front of a total stranger who had no idea what they said wrong. How do I prepare this new grieving mom for these moments and the long road ahead of her? There isn't a proper way to prepare anyone for this path. It's rocky, rough, bumpy and long. A road no one wants to walk, but you are never having to walk it alone. This road I've only walked for a year and a half but this road feels like I've walked on a million miles already. There is no easy or right answer about how to tread. And sadly my other friend, sitting at lunch with us and walking the same path with me, has the same advice for her as I do. I fear all of us experienced grieving moms have the same advice, so I pray it is helpful and true:
Grief comes in waves. The anticipation of big life events seems to be worse than the actual events. The firsts are the worst. Try to forgive yourself. Be easy on yourself. Be patient. You will feel crazy at times and that's "normal". You and your spouse will grieve differently. You and your spouse will most definitely struggle. Take personal time outs if you need it. Sometimes you will look in the mirror and not know the person staring back. Cry if you need to. Be sad when you need to even if it is at an inopportune time. Let your kids see you grieve. Celebrate/remember your child even if it hurts. Be open and talk with your other children about their pain and fears and answer their questions. You will most likely have many questions and struggle with your faith. Smile and be happy when you feel it. Your other kids deserve to have a present mom, so take care of yourself. Get healthy if you can. Find time to pamper yourself, you deserve it. Find your purpose, if you don't know it just search for it. Rely on other grieving moms to help you through. They understand and only they can. The moms usually carry a huge burden of being the stronghold of the family. It's a lot of pressure. Just know that and try to relieve some of that pressure where you can. Let others help you. Seek counseling if you need it. Rest!!!!Do what you have to do to get the rest you need. Mentally you need rest. The puzzle pieces may go back into place but they may fit back together differently. Grief changes you. Your perspective is forever changed. I am sure there is more. Feel free to add if you are following and have more advice. Grief is hard and I am no expert. I am learning and growing and changing everyday. I think I will continue to do so until I see Mary again.
Sitting with this mom at lunch I relived so many memories of losing Mary. It is really hard to go back there, and I realized it really wasn't that long ago when I was sitting in her very same shoes at the very beginning of this journey of loss. I don't envy her. Now also a mom of 2 and not 3. A mom feeling lost, sad and alone-but not alone. So many moms are just like me, too many missing babies that should still be with them. But you still feel so lonely and confused. Sometimes it seems like a millions years have passed. The world keeps moving in fast forward and I feel like I am being catapulted forward as well and expected to somehow find a way to cope. It's very weird. I think in many ways I'm still in denial that Mary is gone and never coming home. I sometimes feel her close and I think she will soon walk through the door of this house. A house we bought soon before she was diagnosed. A house built perfectly for 3 kids. A house too big for 2 kids but just right for 3 kids and 3 cats. Mary should be running around going to dance class, enjoying her friends, her cool room and awesome playhouse. If I think about it too hard I really just can't function. Honestly some days I don't. Some days I go back to bed, pull the covers over my head and hide or escape into fantasy land. Most days I do ok. I can pretend to be a normal mom and handle fundraisers, school carnivals, lacrosse games and cheer practices. But I am always missing a 3rd child's activities and that will never change. The truth is I can't go into Mary's room or I might never leave. I can't go through her clothes or her things because I become frozen. I just live downstairs and keep the basement, garage and closets basically unorganized in fear I will find her memories and just become paralyzed. It has happened on many occasions. Talking to this mom who lost her son to cancer just mere weeks ago brought back the memories of losing Mary. It felt like it happened just yesterday. Memories of me screaming and not recognizing my own cries. My begging God to save my child as she took her last breath in my arms flashed in my head. Driving home from Memphis with an empty van seat, a van seat that would forever be empty was all I could see. A restaurant reservation forever for just 4 and no longer 5 was stuck in my mind. I have memories of going to the dentist and being asked if they could make an appointment for Mary and not being prepared how to respond. I have memories of being asked how many children I have and bursting into tears in front of a total stranger who had no idea what they said wrong. How do I prepare this new grieving mom for these moments and the long road ahead of her? There isn't a proper way to prepare anyone for this path. It's rocky, rough, bumpy and long. A road no one wants to walk, but you are never having to walk it alone. This road I've only walked for a year and a half but this road feels like I've walked on a million miles already. There is no easy or right answer about how to tread. And sadly my other friend, sitting at lunch with us and walking the same path with me, has the same advice for her as I do. I fear all of us experienced grieving moms have the same advice, so I pray it is helpful and true:
Grief comes in waves. The anticipation of big life events seems to be worse than the actual events. The firsts are the worst. Try to forgive yourself. Be easy on yourself. Be patient. You will feel crazy at times and that's "normal". You and your spouse will grieve differently. You and your spouse will most definitely struggle. Take personal time outs if you need it. Sometimes you will look in the mirror and not know the person staring back. Cry if you need to. Be sad when you need to even if it is at an inopportune time. Let your kids see you grieve. Celebrate/remember your child even if it hurts. Be open and talk with your other children about their pain and fears and answer their questions. You will most likely have many questions and struggle with your faith. Smile and be happy when you feel it. Your other kids deserve to have a present mom, so take care of yourself. Get healthy if you can. Find time to pamper yourself, you deserve it. Find your purpose, if you don't know it just search for it. Rely on other grieving moms to help you through. They understand and only they can. The moms usually carry a huge burden of being the stronghold of the family. It's a lot of pressure. Just know that and try to relieve some of that pressure where you can. Let others help you. Seek counseling if you need it. Rest!!!!Do what you have to do to get the rest you need. Mentally you need rest. The puzzle pieces may go back into place but they may fit back together differently. Grief changes you. Your perspective is forever changed. I am sure there is more. Feel free to add if you are following and have more advice. Grief is hard and I am no expert. I am learning and growing and changing everyday. I think I will continue to do so until I see Mary again.
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